Every Day Thoughts March
by MissJayne
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the friendships between our favourite characters.
1. Mar 1

_A/N: For intro, please see Every Day Thoughts January._

Every Day Thoughts: March

_**March 1**_

**I'm very glad to see thee honest friend. I know the times are something hard, but hope they soon will mend. – Jonathan Swift**

Ziva observed McGee silently. He was hunched over his desk, feverishly working through case reports. It was only 1400, but at this rate, he was going to have finished everything in less than an hour.

She knew exactly what had inspired this frenzy of work, although McGee did not know that she knew. He had an important deadline for his book coming up, and if he finished all his work early, there was a chance that Gibbs might let him go early, leading to more writing time.

But McGee was tiring himself out. He had been working like this for the last three days, and judging by the bags under his eyes, been working late into the night. He had been studiously ignoring every comment that Tony had made; her partner had not yet figured it out.

When Tony left to harass Abby, and with Gibbs on a coffee run, Ziva decided to get up and approach McGee. He needed the company. She peered over his shoulder at his efforts. It took him a few minutes to notice her.

"Can I help you, Ziva?" he asked.

She smiled. "You should take a break," she advised. "You look as though you could do with some sleep."

He studied her for a moment. "I have a deadline coming up," he pointed out. "I need to get everything sorted."

"But not at the expense of your sanity." She smiled softly. "Your efforts are putting Tony to shame. But if you do not slow down, I will be forced to stage an intervention."

He stared at her.

"Okay," she caved. "Abby explained what an intervention is, and has asked me to help her if necessary. We are worried about you."

McGee smiled. "Thanks. I'll try to calm down a little."

She smiled at him before walking back to her desk. Hopefully, things would work themselves out.


	2. Mar 2

_**March 2**_

**Every person is bought into our lives to teach us something. As you see each of your friends today, ask yourself what lessons they hold for you and what lessons you might be teaching them.**

The first person that Tim saw that morning was Gibbs. His boss was standing in the elevator, holding the doors so that Tim could enter. He gave a mumbled thanks, aware that Gibbs would not respond either way.

He could not imagine a better boss to have. Gibbs had taught him to think outside the box, to trust his instincts, and to do what was right rather than what he was ordered to do. He might struggle with the latter a lot, but he was getting better. Under pressure, he usually did what he thought was right.

As they left the elevator, Gibbs almost walked into Ziva. Tim smiled as Ziva tried to avoid spilling Gibbs' precious coffee. She would never live it down if she did.

Ziva had taught him how to focus. He admired the way she threw herself into everything she did, determined to get to the bottom of things. She did not allow anything to slow her down, putting everything else to the back of her mind during a case. Even her partner found it difficult to distract her.

Tony ran in five minutes late, as usual. Gibbs glared at him while he took his seat. Tim hid a grin. Tony liked to think he was special, and in a way he was.

Even Tony had taught him something – how to have fun. Somehow, he instinctively knew when they needed to take a break to relax, and he made sure to ease the tension. It usually involved causing trouble of some kind, which was why Tony ended up with more than his fair share of head-slaps.

Tim smiled as he looked around the team. They all depended on each other; they fit together perfectly.


	3. Mar 3

_**March 3**_

**It doesn't matter whether friends laugh with you or at you as long as you're laughing together.**

Tony was nervous. This was not a normal occurrence for him, but this situation involved a crazy ninja Mossad chick and possible death.

This was all Abby's fault. The Goth had decided it would be fun to pull a prank on one Ziva David, and had roped him into it. He might not have needed much persuasion, but Abby did not have to get him involved. This could only end with Ziva killing both of them in a very painful manner.

Although it would be worth it. Abby had used her feminine know-how to dream up an evil plan, and he had made the switch. Right now, Ziva was showering away the results of a strenuous gym session, and he knew that she liked to clean her hair at the same time. To that end, a little bit of bleach had been mixed in with her shampoo. Abby had calculated the amount needed so that it would not hurt the Israeli, and he himself had given the bottle to the scientist so that it could be spiked.

If all went to plan, Ziva would not even notice what had happened until someone pointed it out to her. With a little luck, Gibbs would be the one to notice it. Not so that the pranksters could be head-slapped, but because Gibbs would not know what to say.

He sat up straight as Ziva walked back into the squad room, her brown hair now with streaks of orange. McGee was the first to notice, staring at her as though she had grown another head. The Israeli walked straight up to the Probie, glaring at him.

"Erm, Ziva?" McGee spluttered. "You have… you have…"

Gibbs made it easier for him. "Orange streaks in your hair."

Ziva stalked back to her desk and retrieved a mirror. It took one glance for her expression to turn to fury.

"TONY!"

He laughed, enjoying the moment. He was going to pay for this later.


	4. Mar 4

_A/N: TLC (Thin-Layer Chromatography - which Abby is describing) is as horrible to read as Abby finds it._

_**March 4**_

**Best friends share the same vision through different sets of eyes.**

Gibbs held his tongue as he left the elevator. Abby had called him down to the lab, sounding a little confused. This was not a good sign – Abby was _never_ confused. Something was seriously wrong.

He trusted the Goth, both personally and professionally. She was honest and loyal, as well as smart and adept. She knew exactly how to handle every piece of evidence that could ever come her way, and how to overcome every obstacle. At the same time, she was incredibly friendly and kind, prepared to help anyone who crossed her path.

He entered her lab to find her pacing up and down. She pounced on him the moment she caught sight of him. He allowed her to drag him over to her desk, waiting for her to explain what was going on.

"Gibbs!" she greeted him. "I have a problem – well, it's not a serious problem because I can handle all science things, but I can't quite figure this out and I need to be sure that I'm seeing what I _think_ I'm seeing because I don't want to be wrong, mainly as I'm never wrong and you know that."

She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. Gibbs let her, knowing she needed her time.

"Anyway," she continued. "I've performed a dye extraction and analysis, which leaves me with this." She held up a small rectangular piece of paper. Gibbs could see a few faint marks on it. "I think I've got five marks, but one of them is really faint. Could you take a look for me?"

He nodded, unable to refuse her anything. She beamed, before setting her microscope up for him and guiding him over to it. He peered down the microscope.

"Five," he announced.

"Yes!" Abby cheered. She pulled him into a hug. "Thanks, Gibbs."


	5. Mar 5

_**March 5 – **__continuation of March 1_

**To friendship every burden's light. – John Gay, "The Hare and Many Friends"**

Tim stared through the doors to Autopsy. He could see Ducky hard at work, and was loathe to disturb him. His problem was not urgent.

Although he could not work out who else he should talk to. Tony would laugh, Gibbs would not understand, Ziva would smile but do nothing, while a hug from Abby could not cure all ills. But Ducky was understanding, kind, and above all he was creative. And this problem had its roots in creativity.

He turned to leave. The doors to Autopsy opened with a swish, and Ducky emerged.

"Can I help you, Timothy?" he inquired.

Tim turned around. "I don't want to take you away from your work," he smiled. "You look pretty busy."

Ducky smiled back. "I could always take a break. Come in."

Tim did as he was told. There was always the possibility that he would be offered a soothing mug of tea.

They settled down a few minutes later, each cradling their mugs. Autopsy was silent for a few moments.

"My deadline is causing problems," Tim admitted. "I'm so stressed out. I've been working late into the night, forgetting to eat, and losing my focus. I'm worried that my work at NCIS is suffering."

"Which job do you place first?" Ducky asked.

Tim was confused. "Here."

"Then you should focus on this job," Ducky suggested. "I presume that your writing is something you do to relax."

Tim nodded.

"Your publisher will understand if you need an extension; she wouldn't want you to work yourself into the ground."

Tim chuckled, feeling more relaxed. He would take Ducky's advice. His sanity was more important than his writing.


	6. Mar 6

_**March 6**_

**When someone asked Abraham Lincoln, after he was elected president, what he was going to do about his enemies, he replied, "I'm going to destroy them. I am going to make them my friends." – Attributed to Lincoln**

Jenny did not look up as the door to her office crashed open. Gibbs liked to think he was mysterious, but he was just irksome. Her door suffered so much because of him.

She was drawn out of her thoughts by a pair of blue eyes glaring at her. She was not prepared to guess what she had done to annoy him, well aware it could be just about anything. It might not even be her doing; the FBI might have decided to get in his way again. Gibbs seemed to be under the impression that the entire FBI lay in wait to hijack his cases.

"How can I help you, Agent Gibbs?" Sometimes it was better to get the first strike in with him. Not that it was easy to keep him on his toes.

"Senator Peterson seems to think he's above the law," he growled, not bothering to it down. He chose to glare at her across her desk, as though she had personally told the Senator to aggravate him.

"How is that my problem?" she inquired, keeping her cool. The man really needed to learn to explain things properly.

"Get him to hand over the paper," he ordered.

"Why me?" she questioned. "You can get a warrant."

He snorted. "You play nice with politicians every day. Turn your charms on him."

She smirked, secretly delighted he was asking for her help, in his own roundabout way of course. "I thought you hated it when I 'play nice'?"

"You hate them, but you pretend to like them," he retorted. "I don't want your job. Legal will take too long."

Without giving her a chance to answer, he stormed out again. She rolled her eyes and reached for her phone. Time to call Senator Peterson and smooth some feathers.


	7. Mar 7

_**March 7**_

**Would I lay down my life a country to defend? I willingly would if it housed my friend.**

Ziva David had always been prepared to die for her country. She had grown up knowing that she would be Mossad, and a good Mossad Officer must be prepared to sacrifice themselves to save others. But today, she had found herself questioning her own values.

She had deliberately walked into an extremely dangerous situation in order to diffuse a bomb. Her partner had initially tried to persuade her not to go, before covering for her with Gibbs. She had risked her life instead of waiting for EoD to arrive.

But why? She had not wanted to risk any civilian lives. She was expendable, they were not. If she was in Israel, she would not have thought twice about her actions. In America, she was not supposed to put herself in the direct line of fire like that.

It did not make any sense. If someone tried to shoot a civilian, she would jump in the way. It was expected of her. But if she went to disarm a bomb, apparently this was different. She did not see it herself, could not see the differences. As far as she was concerned, there were none.

Would she die for America? She had risked her life for it so many times before. When she considered it, it was because her friends were here. Tony, McGee, Abby, Gibbs, Jenny, Ducky, and even Palmer lived here. They all loved America. They had all been born here and grew up here. If they themselves were in Israel, they would willingly lay down their lives to protect her country.

She glanced across the squad room at her partner. Perhaps they had something in common after all.


	8. Mar 8

_**March 8**_

**Time spent with a true friend is nourishment for the soul.**

Ducky silently observed Jennifer as she ate.

He had invited her out for a meal, having noted how much she was currently shut up in her office. She had accepted graciously, and agreed to take an evening off. He was aware it would be good for her; she put herself under far too much stress.

She was dressed conservatively, with her red hair flowing around her shoulders. Her eyes were more alive than they had been recently. Her body was more relaxed, the stress having left her for once.

"Do you remember that time in Calais?" he asked, recognizing the twinkle in her eye from then.

"Which part?" she teased. "When you were arrested, or when I commandeered that boat so we could cross the Channel?"

"Either," he replied. "Although Jethro's team did enjoy the boat-stealing story."

"I bet they did," she chuckled. "Did you tell them why the French police were after you?"

"That officer should not have tampered with that crime scene," he grinned, happy to see her recalling pleasant times. "I would do it again in a heartbeat."

"Would you do it if it were Jethro?" she questioned.

He mused for a moment. "I would, although I doubt he would be so stupid. He knows my views on the matter."

"I agree," she concluded. "He would not do such a thing."

"I did not believe you capable of stealing a boat," Ducky noted. "But you did it anyway."

"I did not steal it," Jenny bristled. "I commandeered it."

Ducky laughed, topping up her wine. "Jethro's team were surprised too," he admitted.

"I know," Jenny grinned. "Ziva was laughing for a week."

The two friends continued their meal in an amiable manner, each recalling days long past.


	9. Mar 9

_**March 9**_

**A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of Nature. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship"**

Tony smiled as he continued to walk. It was a beautiful day, with winter finally leaving and spring right around the corner. In the park he was walking through, a few flowers were starting to bloom already. Squirrels were cautiously moving around. It was a good day, especially because his partner was walking next to him.

Gibbs had given them a long lunch, in part due to the complete lack of cases. For the last week, no sailors or Marines had been murdered, attacked, kidnapped, or anything that would require their attention. Tony was starting to long for a murder and Ziva had been threatening to take a hit out on someone so they would have something to investigate. As Gibbs had heard that comment, he had ordered them out to lunch to calm down.

Ziva had spotted the park, and they had decided to take a longer lunch and risk head-slaps. This place was incredibly calm though, and they hoped that Gibbs would not mind.

They settled down on a patch of grass, ignoring the lingering dampness. The serene atmosphere surrounded them like a blanket. It was not long before they fell asleep…

The buzzing of a cell phone woke them. Tony groaned and reached into his pocket, cursing the fact it was now dark. Gibbs was going to kill them, but at least it would be worth it.


	10. Mar 10

_**March 10 – SJ's birthday**_

**We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over. – Samuel Johnson**

Abby had not expected the Caf-Pow on her desk, but she was aware that the last two months had not been easy. Kate had died and then Ziva had arrived. The drink was probably from Gibbs, who always looked after her. When she thanked him later in the afternoon, he had been confused.

A few weeks later, she had just finished briefing Gibbs' team when she had knocked a rack of test tubes from her desk. Faster than she had imagined was possible, Ziva reached out and caught it, without spilling a drop. The Israeli gave her a warm smile as she placed it carefully back on the desk.

It was the next month before Abby found something had changed. It was nearly Christmas, and on her desk was a beautifully wrapped present. The tag said it was from Ziva, which almost made the Goth throw it out. But in the spirit of the season, she relented, and was extremely happy to see a hand decorated notebook. It had clearly taken a lot of time to put together, and it looked perfect.

As winter slowly turned into spring, the odd Caf-Pow continued to appear out of nowhere. Abby was now sure it was Ziva, after having bugged her lab for proof. The box of chocolates was a slight shock, especially as they were her secret favorites, and even Gibbs did not know of them. Still, they were deeply appreciated.

The clocks went forward, and Abby watched as Ziva talked about a vacation she had once taken in Scotland. As the Israeli turned to leave, Abby called her back. A little nervous, she wrapped Ziva in a hug before they shared smiles.


	11. Mar 11

_**March 11**_

**The secret to a healthy friendship is for both people to put more energy into the relationship than they take out.**

"Are you sure about this, Doctor?" Jimmy questioned, watching nervously as he mentor collected the papers together.

"Having second thoughts?" Ducky inquired. "You can always back out, you know."

"I don't want to back out!" Palmer protested. "I'm just worried about you, and… Okay, I'm nervous about this whole thing. Really nervous. I've barely been sleeping. But I still don't think you should do this."

Ducky sighed, pulling off his gloves and shuffling the papers again. "If you don't want to do this, you don't have to. No one will think any less of you."

"Really?"

"Well, perhaps Agent DiNozzo will, but you shouldn't live your life according to what he thinks."

Jimmy was still confused. "But what about you? I know this is for charity, but you probably shouldn't be bungee jumping at your age."

Ducky smiled softly. "I checked with another doctor, who assured me that I would be okay," he admitted. "I did not sign up without taking the appropriate precautions."

"How many people do you think will sponsor us?" Jimmy wondered.

Ducky shook the papers in his hand slightly. "Abby most definitely will, and she will mobilize everyone else. Tony will give us more money if we ask him in front of a female, and Gibbs should be asked in private."

"Why should Gibbs be asked in private?" Jimmy checked.

"Because he is a private man," Ducky noted. He handed over half the forms. "I'll start on the top floor and you start on the bottom. Hopefully, there will be no bodies for us to deal with in the next few hours."


	12. Mar 12

_**March 12**_

**With you there to lift me up, I can reach for the stars.**

Gibbs risked a smile as he watched Jenny potter around her kitchen. It was late in the evening, and they had both been working past their supposed leaving times. She had emerged from MTAC, seen him sitting at his desk, and offered him dinner and bourbon. He had readily agreed, aware that he would appreciate her company tonight.

Although she was tired, she had informed him she would throw together some form of food, rather than wait for takeout. He had decided to stay with her, having had firsthand experience of her cooking before. He did not want to have to call the fire department before the night was over.

She had supplied him with a glass of bourbon, sipping her own as she tried to put a few things together. He guessed she was trying to make an omelet, but it wasn't going too well. He rose from his seat to help her. They worked seamlessly together, as though they had been doing it for a lifetime. He tried to ignore the feelings this dragged up.

She sighed, staring at one of her cupboards. "I left the pepper on top," she groaned.

He stared at her for a moment. "How did you get it up there in the first place?" he queried, confused. It was definitely too high for her to reach.

"I don't know," she confessed. "But omelets are bland without pepper."

"We can survive!"

She glared at him, hands on her hips.

"Well, I can't reach it," he protested. "Seriously, did you have a giant in here?"

She turned to face the cupboard. "Give me a boost up," she demanded.

Ignoring the sensations of being so close to her, he did as she had asked. It would only result in an argument otherwise, and eventually she would win. He observed her as she happily sprinkled pepper all over the omelet. At least the pepper would mask the taste.


	13. Mar 13

_**March 13**_

**Be slow in choosing a Friend, slower in changing. – Benjamin Franklin, **_**Poor Richard's Almanack**_

"Hey, Tony," Abby mumbled.

Tony was on full alert immediately. The lab was too quiet, while Abby's usual excitement appeared to have been dampened. And it took a lot of knock the Goth in any way. Part of him was tempted to walk straight back out and fetch Gibbs, while another part told him to stay with Abby and comfort her as best he could.

He slowly walked to her side, judging her demeanor. She was subdued and pensive, very different from her usual bubbly self. Bert was in her arms, being held close for comfort. He really hoped this would not be linked to another crazy ex-boyfriend.

"What's wrong, Abs?" he asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She sighed heavily. "Nothing."

"Come on," he pleaded. "I'm not going to tell anyone. You'd set Gibbs on me, and I'm scared of being concussed."

Abby gave a weak smile. "He wouldn't head-slap you; he'd kill you and bury your body in his backyard."

He shuddered, mainly for her pleasure. It seemed to work; she allowed a quick giggle to escape her lips. "So, what's wrong?" he repeated.

She considered for a few moments. "Someone I know inside the Navy Yard – Robert – doesn't want to be my friend anymore. He says that I'm too much to handle. Why can't he accept me for who I am?" She hugged Bert closer, resulting in a fart from the hippo.

Tony was confused. "Why would anyone want to stop being your friend? He must be insane! What is he on?"

Abby looked relieved. "I thought he was a nice guy, but he's crazy, definitely."

Tony smiled as he continued opt make her laugh. The loser had no idea what he was missing out on.


	14. Mar 14

_A/N: Kudos to ScarletAngelww for spotting the deliberate mistake in yesterday's. I make all sorts of horrible typos, but I normally catch a fair few..._

_**March 14**_

**Right now stop reading this and call a friend you've lost touch with. Call a friend that you think about from time to time, but haven't gotten around to calling. Call a friend and welcome her back into your life.**

Ziva tried to calculate the time difference in her head. If she called Miriam now, it would be in the evening, and she should be free.

She had not spoken to Miriam since she had left for America to become part of Gibbs' team. They had grown up together and been best friends. Miriam had helped her through Tali's death all those years ago, even though it seemed like yesterday.

They had gone in different directions in life: Ziva had allowed herself to be swept into Mossad, while Miriam had married her childhood sweetheart, Michael, and had four children. At least it had been four the last time they had spoken; she would not be surprised if four was now five or even six. Miriam had always wanted a large family, something Ziva did not care for. Her own life was about protecting her country.

Nevertheless, she had sometimes wondered about becoming a mother. Could she bring a child into this world, knowing of all the evil that existed? Miriam had always argued that children were a clean slate, and they alone would build the future. Ziva supposed her main concern was that any children of her own would be pulled into Mossad, especially seeing as she had been raised to become an officer.

Her hand hovered over the phone on her desk. The squad room was fairly empty and relatively quiet. Her coworkers were not around to distract her. She really needed to make this call now, but she was nervous. Would Miriam remember her after all, or was she even alive?

Forcing herself to pick up the phone, she dialed a number from memory. Somewhere on the other side of the world, someone answered.

"Shalom, Miriam?"

"Ziva! Shalom!"


	15. Mar 15

_**March 15**_

**How to tell if someone is friend material: She doesn't think you're immature for going to a kid movie without a kid.**

Jenny fought down her nervousness. This was a stupid idea, but it was not as though she had much choice. She could hardly do it herself, and at least this way it might remain fairly quiet.

She stepped quickly into the lab before she could lose her nerve, letting the loud pulsing music surround her. The Goth was standing in front of her computer, her head bobbing along to the beat. In her uneasiness, Jenny almost laughed at the way Abby's pigtails swung as she nodded her head, but somehow fought the urge down. This really was a stupid idea. Abby did not know she was here anyway, so she turned to go…

"Director!" Abby squealed.

Jenny winced internally, but turned back around to face to Goth, who had reached for her remote and was busy lowering the music to a less ear-splitting level. "How are things down here, Abby?" she inquired politely.

"Just great," Abby grinned, looking as though she was barely containing her desire to hug the older woman. "What can I do for you?"

The redhead sighed. "I need a favor," she admitted.

"Name it," Abby replied. "Unless it involves doing something mean to Gibbs, because I don't know if I could hurt him in any way –"

"I just need you to look up movie times for me," Jenny informed her, cutting the Goth off before she could get into her speech.

Abby whirled around to face her computer. "Any movie in particular?" she checked.

"Pink Panther," Jenny murmured, just loud enough for Abby to hear.

If Abby was surprised, she gave no sign of it. She clicked a few buttons before collecting a piece of paper from the printer. "Times for tonight," she smiled, handing the paper over.

Jenny gave a grateful smile. Perhaps she should take a leaf out of Gibbs' book and start supplying the favorite with Caf-Pows.


	16. Mar 16

_**March 16**_

**More than just loved, friend, you help me feel beloved.**

Tony continued to stare at Ziva across the squad room. She was reading a report, her head down, completely focused on the paper in front of her. Her body language was relaxed and calm, which she always seemed to be.

How she could never become stressed had always puzzled him. Sure, she could be frustrated at times, especially when he had just played a prank on her, but she usually just threatened to torture him in various painful ways. But stressed with her work? Presumably, she worked off all her aggression down in the gym.

"Why are you staring at me?" Ziva's voice cut through his thoughts. He forced himself back to reality to notice her eyeing him with amusement. He was a little worried to realize he had no idea how long she had been watching him.

"I was not staring, _Zee-vah_," he countered. "I was observing you."

"Is there any chance you could do it in a less creepy manner?" she inquired. "I am trying to work."

"Creepy?!" he replied, highly amused. "This is coming from the woman who can appear out of nowhere, who enjoys sneaking up on people."

"You enjoy it," she shot back.

She was right, although he would never admit it. It made him feel wanted, that she felt safe enough around him to practice her skills on him. He felt special, even if he did jump every time she did it. He wanted her to teach him how to do it, so he could sneak up behind Gibbs mainly. And the Probie. Strangely, she never scared the Probie.

"You cannot tell me that you do not enjoy it?" Ziva interrupted his thoughts again. "Ha."

He glared at her, annoyed that she had figured it out and yet feeling loved. Time to harass the Probie to change the topic.


	17. Mar 17

_**March 17**_

**So closely interwoven have been our lives, our purposes, and experiences that, separated, we have a feeling of incompleteness. – Elizabeth Cady Stanton**

He sat in MTAC, in the darkness, allowing it to consume him. He felt comfortable here, as though he deserved to be here. And he did. The light was too good for him right now.

He was alone in the world. It was strange; she was only in New York City at a conference. But it felt as though she was a world away, as though she had left him again. As much as he hated the term, he was incomplete. She was his other half, his better half, the only one who had ever rescued him from the darkness even though she had refused to attempt to change him.

She understood why he was drawn to the darkness, probably because she was lost in it herself. While he was content there, she occasionally struggled against it. And he helped her. If she could find the light, he would help her in any way. She deserved to be happy, to escape the suffocating darkness that surrounded her most of the time.

Yet she continued to turn to him, regardless of the darkness that swirled around them. And he could not refuse her. She was his soulmate, his second soulmate. Not many people were lucky enough to meet their first, and even fewer found a second. If she asked him to shoot DiNozzo, he would do it. If she asked him to cut off a limb, he would immediately reach for his knife. He would take a bullet for her, no questions asked.

But if leaving him allowed her to be happy, he would let her break his heart. He would probably never recover, but he did not care.

The sole technician at the side turned around to face him. "Director Shepard is online," he announced.

Gibbs allowed himself a smile. He hoped she felt the same way.


	18. Mar 18

_**March 18**_

**I do not wish to treat friendships daintily, but with roughest courage. When they are real, they are not glass threads or frostwork, but the solidest thing we know. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Friendship"**

"McGee!" Ziva exclaimed. "What were you doing?"

Tim looked at her wearily. They were in the gym at NCIS, and Ziva had offered to give him a training session. Knowing her exceptional fighting skills, Tim had readily accepted. It had been a good feeling to see Tony's face when he learnt of Ziva's offer.

Now, he thought he had made the wrong choice. Ziva was quick on her feet, fighting fit, and seemed to be able to predict his every move. Even when he trained with Gibbs, he did not end up on his back this much. And Gibbs gave him a chance to catch his breath between bouts. Ziva was tiring him too quickly.

The Israeli came over to his side, not to attack him but to check up on him. She eyed him up carefully, looking for something that he did not understand. He felt uncomfortable, like a fly being observed by a spider before it was eaten.

"Why are you not fighting me?" Ziva demanded suddenly.

"I am fighting you," he protested, confused.

She shook her head softly. "You are holding back," she corrected. "You are being too dainty. I am not going to break. So why are you not fighting me?"

Tim recalled fighting Kate in the same gym, and how he had held back then. Ziva was right; they were both right. He knew Ziva would not break easily; he doubted even Gibbs could break her.

He nodded his head to show he understood, and prepared for the next round. This time, he did not plan to hold back.


	19. Mar 19

_**March 19 **__–continuation of March 15_

**How to tell is someone is good friend material: She goes to a kid movie with you so you don't have to go alone.**

Abby hovered outside the Director's office. It had only been a few hours since the redhead had been in her lab and asked for movie times.

The Goth did not think any differently about the Director for wanting to see a kid movie. She did not think anyone was immature for wanting to go to one without a kid. Regardless, Jenny should not have to go alone. She probably only spent a short amount of time away from her office anyway and she should have some company for some of those hours.

Cynthia was not around, and Abby found herself pacing up and down. She needed to go in, but she could not pluck up the courage. Unlike the others, she was prepared to stand up to Gibbs, which showed her inner strength. The others bowed to Gibbs' will, with the possible exception of the Director, who stood up to him because she was supposed to.

Drat! Why was this so hard? All she had to do was walk in, probably interrupt an important phone call, and ask the Director if she could go to a kid movie with her. Not difficult at all. Although there was always the possibility that Jenny was in MTAC…

The door opened and Abby jumped a foot. Her heart in her mouth, she whirled around to see Jenny, piles of folders in her hands, looking as surprised as she felt.

"Can I help you, Abby?" the redhead asked, recovering first. She placed the folders carefully onto Cynthia's desk and indicated that they could adjourn to her office.

Abby's feet were rooted to the floor. "I was wondering if you wanted some company tonight," she blurted out.

Jenny raised her eyebrows. "If you want to come along, I was planning to leave at 7," she told the Goth.

Abby smiled, feeling relieved. "You shouldn't go to a kid movie on your own," she admitted. "I'll be here at 7."


	20. Mar 20

_**March 20**_

**A good thing that's even better done with a friend: shopping.**

Ducky scanned the shelves in front of him desperately. This was definitely not his best idea.

His cell phone had died an ignominious death the previous day when Mr. Palmer had somehow managed to drop it into a Petty Officer's stomach. Even after all the bodily fluids had been wiped off, Abby had been unable to work her magic and make it function again. Palmer had been extremely apologetic and offered to purchase another one, but Ducky had not been bothered. He could do with a trip to the mall. An afternoon away from Mother was necessary anyway.

But the choice here was phenomenal. He only wanted something basic, yet all he could see being offered to him were things capable of taking photographs and videos, with Internet connections and Bluetooth. None of this made any sense to him; it was bewildering. How did young people cope with all of these options? Did they simply pick the phone that looked best, or the one all their friends had?

Tim appeared at his elbow, looking delighted by all the choice. Having heard about the cell phone in the corpse, the young agent had volunteered to assist in the search for a new one, and Ducky had gladly taken up the offer. Tim was extremely good with computers and all kinds of technology, and could easily wade through the jargon and translate it.

"Do you just want a basic one?" Tim asked. "Or do you want to splash out a bit?"

Ducky chuckled. "Just something basic, Timothy. I could not cope with anything else."

Tim nodded as he scanned through the options. "That one," he pointed, "Would probably do the job. It's got a camera in it, but you don't have to use it, and Abby and I could always show you if you wanted to learn."

Ducky nodded sagely, trusting his friend's judgment. "Then I shall buy that one," he smiled.


	21. Mar 21

_**March 21**_

**Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love. – Jane Austin, **_**Northanger Abbey**_

McGee watched Abby dance around her lab. She was not aware of his presence, and he did not plan to cue her into it. He was happy to watch from the shadows, watch her when she believed she was alone, watch her amuse herself. She was enjoying every beat of her song, while simultaneously watching Major Mass Spec do his job.

They were good friends, worked incredibly well together and rarely got into disagreements. They bounced ideas off each other, each taking an idea a step further. They had fun, shared laughter and gossiped. They tried to team up together to take on Tony, even though Abby sometimes decided to defend him. They chatted with Ducky, and occasionally Palmer, about things that most agents did not even know about, let alone understand.

And yet he wanted more. He still loved her, even after she had broken everything off between them. He still cared for her and protected her as best he could. She was an amazing woman; so full of life and happiness, determined to delight everyone, her sharp mind always working. Men seemed to fall at her feet, even though she occasionally had bad judgment. Michael Mawher came to mind and he suppressed a shudder.

She was still wonderful. She had let him down gently and had played it so that they remained friends. He was glad; he did not know what he would do without her. Although she did not reciprocate his feelings, he was glad to be her friend.


	22. Mar 22

_**March 22**_

**True friends are like marathon runners, pacing each other through the race of life. When one stumbles, the other drops back to help. When one surges forward, the other joins in flight.**

Tony began to fervently wish that he had never emerged from his bed.

He had stupidly mentioned to Ziva that he needed to find a new running route, failing to inform her of the reason why: he wanted to meet some new women. She had offered to take him running for a few mornings and he had agreed. She was a good runner after all, and he trusted her.

He had not counted on her waking him up at 0500, practically throwing him into the shower before dragging him outside. The cool spring air stung his ears, while his lungs burned and his legs ached. What was she? Some sort of genetically modified ninja chick who could feel no pain?

But he loved it. Running with Ziva was smooth and steady. She made everything look effortless. Her shapely limbs continued to pound the path with ease, her long hair flowed behind her, and her head bobbed slightly to the music in her ears. She had yet to break into a sweat and wasn't even breathing heavily.

He felt himself stumble over his own feet, somehow managing to stay upright. But his pace was gone. He allowed himself to stop, and noticed Ziva paused and jogged slowly back to him. She eyed him up carefully, although she did not say a word. She didn't have to; she was perfectly capable of judging the situation without speaking. Patiently, she waited for him to catch his breath.

He took his time, knowing that she would continue to support him. Finally, he looked her in the eye to indicate that he was ready to continue. She grinned dangerously and he began to worry. That smile at work usually meant he was in danger of losing various limbs via office supplies.

"Only another five miles," she announced.

He groaned, but obediently followed. He would thank her when he caught the next escaping suspect.


	23. Mar 23

_**March 23 **__– continuation of March 15 and March 19_

**How to tell if someone is best friend material: She wants to go to a kid movie as much as you do.**

Ziva was puzzled. She knew that Jenny had disappeared to Abby's lab earlier, looking very nervous. Then Abby had visited the Director's office, looking off kilter as she entered but seemingly overjoyed as she left. Something was going on, and she wanted to know what it was.

Luckily, neither Tony nor McGee nor Gibbs had noticed anything. Tony would spend forever coming up with increasingly wild speculations, McGee would start worrying about the Goth, while Gibbs would simply barge into the Director's office and demand to know what was going on. But Ziva was used to creeping around, and was content to do so now.

She finished her work early, so she was ready to leave whenever it was necessary. At 1845, she spotted the Goth walking along the catwalk, looking ready to leave. Glancing over at Gibbs, she grabbed her bag and disappeared upstairs. No one seemed to notice her departure. She smiled to herself; she was still good. Silently, she crept up to Jenny's office door and tried to listen to the conversation.

The door opened abruptly and she jumped back in shock. Jenny stood in front of her, smiling. "Shalom, Ziva."

Ziva gave a weak smile back. Her overconfidence had been shattered. "Shalom, Jen. What is going on?" The direct approach usually worked better on the redhead.

Abby appeared in the doorway. "We're going to see a movie," she announced.

Ziva considered carefully. "May I come?"

The other two shared a look. "Erm, it's not an action movie," Jenny added.

The Israeli grinned. "They are so unrealistic," she admitted. "Is it something I might like?"

"Pink Panther?" Jenny confessed.

"That sounds fun," Ziva mused. "I would like to see this."

The other two shared another look. "Not a problem," Jenny decided. "We were just about to leave."

Ziva smiled as she walked out of the squad room with Jenny and Abby. Tony would be asking so many questions tomorrow, while she was going to enjoy herself tonight.


	24. Mar 24

_**March 24**_

**Have no friends not equal to yourself. – Confucius**

Tony smiled as he watched Abby interact with the new agents. The Director had decided that it would be easier for the Goth to do one big tour of her lab than many much smaller ones. Tony could understand: Abby's time was precious.

And yet, even though she had been dragged away from Major Mass Spec, Abby was in her element. She made sure to include each and every new agent in her discussion, asking many questions. She beamed every step of the way, making them feel welcome. Her laughter contrasted with the blaring music that emerged from her speakers.

He remembered what Abby had once told him – a stranger is a friend we have only just met. He could think of something else she lived by: she viewed everyone equally. Sure, she could see people's strengths and weaknesses, but she cared for them all the same. She was even nice to the Autopsy Gremlin! And Palmer was very strange indeed.

Abby did not fit any stereotype. She was bubbly and friendly, but dressed as a Goth and had a very sharp mind. She was a scientist to her bones, but she believed in psychic powers, ghosts and aliens. Putting her into a box was impossible; there simply wasn't one that would contain their Abby.

She whirled around and bumped into Gibbs, who had appeared out of nowhere as usual.

"Meet _el jefe_," she announced to the others, dancing over to her desk and retrieving a piece of paper. "Results," she informed him, not missing a beat. She raised her eyebrows in expectation. Gibbs smiled, passed her the expected Caf-Pow and left without a backward glance.

Abby smiled and turned to the others. "He loves me really," she explained, preparing to continue her talk.

Tony grinned. Only Abby would love everyone equally.


	25. Mar 25

_**March 25**_

**Thou thy best friend shalt cherish many a year. – Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "To a Friend"**

Ducky sighed as he rode the elevator down to Autopsy. Another year had passed and his birthday had come around again.

On one level, he enjoyed his birthday: another year wiser, another year's worth of experience. But the years seemed to pass so quickly now; it was as if he blinked and he was a year older. Time was speeding up and he had no way of stopping it. And to top it all off, everyone had somehow forgotten his birthday. It was not as though he had reminded anyone, but even Jethro had not mentioned it. Neither had Abby, who had an excellent head for dates and always took the time to sing 'Happy Birthday' to everyone.

The elevator dinged and he stepped out. He had no more autopsies to perform, but there was always more paperwork to tackle. He spared a brief thought to how the Director coped with all of her files, before walking into Autopsy. The lights were off, which was unusual…

"SURPRISE!" came the cry as the lights turned back on, revealing what looked like half of NCIS squished into the small room. They burst into a version of 'Happy Birthday', only slightly marred by the number of people singing out of key. He spotted many of his friends in the crowd, all clutching presents and cards. Abby seemed to be leading everyone; he should have guessed she was behind this in some way.

Ducky smiled as the song finished. He should have known that his friends would not forget his birthday.


	26. Mar 26

_**March 26 **__– My father's birthday_

**False friendship, like the ivy, decays and ruins the walls it embraces; but true friendship gives new life and animation to the object it supports.**

Gibbs stifled a groan as he put the phone down. Ex-wife number one had suddenly decided she was not getting enough alimony and had hired a lawyer to get more money out of him.

He knew exactly why he had married her and the subsequent two: he had been searching for a replacement for his lost family. Shannon and Kelly had meant the world to him and still did, but he had felt the need to rebuild his life in some way. However, he had gone about it in the wrong way – marrying women who he could not love and focusing all his energy on his job.

And yet over the years, he had inadvertently found himself a new family. Abby had been first into the fold: his little girl who required love and cuddles, and who could do little wrong in his eyes. Tony had been next: his eldest son who needed to be reminded that he was worth something. Then there had been Tim: the younger son with a brilliant mind but still insecure. And finally Ziva: his other daughter, so sure of her skills and whatever she did.

They all looked up to him as a father figure and he did his best to fulfill that role. He trusted his little band of misfits, just as they trusted him. They all leant on each other for support when they needed it, although the 'kids' were quick to blame each other for their madcap ideas. As if he couldn't see through their excuses.

He sighed, wondering if any of them knew a good lawyer. He was going to need one to protect his money.


	27. Mar 27

_**March 27**_

**While polishing my memories, I discovered those shared with friends are among my most treasured keepsakes.**

Ziva tried not to fall asleep in the squad room. It had been a long few days and she desperately needed sleep, but she had decided to leave with the others and they were very close to finishing. And she had no intention of falling asleep in front of one Anthony DiNozzo.

She closed her eyes and ran through her memories. Her favorite ones came to the surface, and she was surprised to note how many of them came from her time in America. There were some happy memories of Tali and Ari when they were much younger and innocent, but they were mainly placed in this country.

Gibbs coming back from his retirement in Mexico to help her crossed her mind, followed rapidly by McGee asking her opinion on which dog was right for him, spending a girly night at Abby's when her apartment was being fumigated, Ducky offering his assistance as they crossed stepping stones together and their subsequent tumble into the water, Jenny helping her adjust to America while dealing with her own new job, and Tony…

Just about anything Tony did was simultaneously amusing and aggravating in equal measure. She seemed to have a lot of memories relating to him: their time together when Gibbs was in Mexico, working undercover as a pair of married assassins, being trapped in a cargo box together, teasing McGee together at every opportunity, that sexual harassment seminar when she had licked his ear – the list went on.

She opened her eyes when she sensed someone standing in front of her.

"Coming?" Tony asked.

She grabbed her bag and followed her friends out. Tomorrow would be the chance for new memories to form.


	28. Mar 28

_**March 28**_

**A dear friend is wealth added to your treasure chest of experiences.**

"A treasure hunt!" Ducky exclaimed, staring intently at his latest guest. "Do you know why treasure hunts originated, Mr. Palmer?"

"Oh, I know this one," Palmer replied from the other side of the table. "Pirates buried their treasure to keep it safe, and made maps so they could find it later."

"That's a very romanticized view," Ducky noted, continuing to study the body in front of him.

"I always wanted to be a pirate," Palmer admitted. "Sailing the high seas, fighting and dueling, finding treasure… but then I realized I'd die from diabetes within a week. And I get really seasick."

Ducky shook his head slightly. Young people today… "Pirates still exist, but they are certainly not romantic. They use AK47s, not swords and pistols. They kill many people and injure a great deal more."

"I don't want to be a modern-day pirate," Palmer objected. "I don't like guns. But a treasure hunt would be fun!"

"Well," Ducky mused. "There does seem to be buried treasure connected to this case somehow."

"And this man," Palmer indicated the body on the table, "Died while hunting for it!"

"Now, now," Ducky cautioned. "We don't know that yet."

"But Tony told me that Gibbs managed to get their suspect to crack and confess to murdering this man because he wanted the buried treasure all to himself!"

Ducky sighed. "We do not make assumptions. The man could be lying. We will work out what really happened."

Palmer nodded in agreement. "Ignore Tony. Got it."

Ducky smiled as he reached for his scalpel. He really should keep young Palmer away from Tony…


	29. Mar 29

_**March 29**_

**Friendship doesn't have to be fancy. A Sunday matinee, a walk on the beach, a long talk over a glass of homemade iced tea. It's the quality of time that counts.**

Gibbs hid a smile as he tugged Jenny into the park. She had been swamped with paperwork and meetings in the last week. The last straw for him had been when he had arrived at her townhouse to find her in her study with a huge pile of paperwork. It was clear she had been working solidly through the weekend and desperately needed a break.

The redhead had loudly objected as he knocked a pile of paperwork to the floor, before he dragged her into the hall and handed her a coat. But the tension had slowly begun to leave her body as they continued to walk.

He had bought lunch in a small, out of the way café. She had happily tucked in while urging him to eat as well, making him wonder when she had last eaten. He knew Noemi did most of the cooking and made sure she got something in her, but Noemi had the weekend off. And Jenny could be extremely engrossed in her work, to the extent that she needed to be reminded to eat. He had talked her into sharing dessert with him, well aware that she would forget to eat something later if he didn't keep an eye on her.

The little park had caught his attention as they had passed, and she required little persuasion to enter. It was a beautiful place: small groves of trees, wide open areas of grass, a tiny pond to one side. For some reason, the park was empty of humans, although squirrels were everywhere.

They settled down on the grass and shared a smile, both of their minds far away from work.


	30. Mar 30

_**March 30**_

**A true friend likes you even when you don't like yourself. She will point out all your good qualities and convince you you're worthy of every good thing that happens to you.**

"Okay," Jenny smiled softly. "What's the problem?"

Ziva rolled her shoulder gently and reached for her beer again. "I am a screw up," she admitted.

Jenny chuckled. "I doubt you've ever screwed anything up," she replied. "But, go on, convince me."

Ziva paused as she sipped her beer, gathering her strength. "My English is very bad," she confessed.

The redhead waited patiently for her to continue.

"I do not understand all these strange phrases," the Israeli added. "Well, I understand them when other people use them, but I can never get them the right way round. Tony always teases me over it, McGee seems to spend half his time correcting me and Gibbs says nothing. It is becoming very aggravating."

Jenny smiled again. "Your English is much better than my Hebrew," she pointed out. "I would not be able to make myself understood very well if I was in Israel. I certainly wouldn't be able to cope with any idioms. You are capable of questioning suspects in a language other than your own! That must count for something."

The Israeli cocked her head to one side as she considered this.

"Tony is just jealous of all your skills," Jenny added. "He can't speak as many languages as you, he can't run as fast as you, he can't fight as well as you, and he is definitely not capable of killing someone with a paperclip."

Ziva giggled.

"McGee feels that he is helping you learn; it's just his nature, he doesn't mean anything by it. And I doubt Jethro even cares."

Ziva smiled happily. "Thanks," she offered.

"Next time I'm drowning in paperwork, I expect you to pull me out," the redhead teased.

"I do that anyway," Ziva grinned.

They continued to laugh as they shared their evening.


	31. Mar 31

_A/N: April should start going up tomorrow._

_**March 31**_

**It is not so much our friend's help that helps us as the confident knowledge that they will help us. – Epicurus**

"Are you sure about this, Abs?" Tony queried nervously.

"Of course!" Abby beamed. "You're the right height and build, and I can't really ask the others to do this for me."

"Why not?" Tony grumbled. "McGee would happily do this, and you just have to smile sweetly at Gibbs and he'll do your bidding."

"I already told you," she smiled. "They aren't the right height or build. And anyway, Gibbs is scaring Lieutenant Parker in Interrogation and McGee is hacking into the CIA. You were only sitting at your desk."

"I was working," he objected.

"You were throwing chips at Ziva! Not very productive," she pointed out.

"And this is a brand new shirt!" he protested. "Five hundred bucks! Only bought it yesterday."

"I've already told you," she smirked. "You can take the shirt off if you want, but I haven't got anything else for you to wear."

"Borrow some scrubs from the Autopsy Gremlin," Tony suggested. "I could borrow a shirt from the Probie if you give me five minutes."

"But Gibbs needs the results as soon as possible," Abby pleaded. "He won't be happy with you if you're the reason for the delay."

Tony considered this carefully for a few moments. "Fine. But I'm going to bill someone for this shirt."

Abby nodded and they took up their positions. The Goth picked up a large tin of red paint and took aim. She threw the contents at a terrified-looking Tony.

"Finished?" he checked, gingerly wiping the paint from his eyes.

"Thanks, Tony!" Abby giggled as she examined the cloth screen behind him. "I can check the blood splatter patterns much better now!"

"Don't mention it," Tony muttered as he slipped away in his ruined shirt.


End file.
